Remember the round stones

On the beaches of western Italy

How they pressed into the back

Like fingers seeking to heal

While Mediterranean tried to reach you

To steal you far and away

A lover yearning for embrace

Wet and sunlit in anticipation

But you stayed just out of reach

Content to be still-life in bronze

While the world vanished into sound –

Busy market stalls, cars, and Vespas

Crying out for our attention

As the sea drowned them out

And sang us lovingly to sleep

In the hot and hazy afternoon

Forever and a day ago.